Generation Faith

It happened on the first Sunday I ever spent in my college dormitory, my first residence of my own, away from my family. I was asleep when my alarm went off at exactly 7 a.m. Instead of getting up, I hit the snooze button. This may not seem particularly momentous, but it was a first for me—for

I first began to deepen my relationship with God in high school. I attended a small, Catholic, all-boys school sponsored by the Congregation of the Brothers of St. Francis Xavier. As a result, I was always presented with opportunities that encouraged me to explore my faith and reflect on what presen

When I am forced to deal with the hatred of prejudice, I know my faith will help me through.

It is 8 a.m. Monday, time for morning prayer. The principal comes on the loud speaker, her voice especially shaky. Everyone knows. Still, I tense up when she says, “Students, come meet me in the gym.” My class gets up and we go. No one in the halls dares to speak one word.When we get to

When I started high school at Walsh Jesuit in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, I was pretty sure I had the whole religion thing down. I grew up in a Catholic family and had attended Catholic schools since kindergarten. I went to Mass every weekend and on holy days, had taken religion classes every day for year

Just by playing music, we found that interfaith exchange arose naturally.

As the summer of my senior year of high school drew to an end, the inevitable separation approached: I was about to venture into the world on my own, bidding my family a goodbye vastly different from the routine “see ya” exchanged before school each morning. Along with the usual changes

The most meaningful act of social justice in my life occurred very close to home.